


322. lost life

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [167]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8845447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “If we’d grown up together,” Helena says to the dark quiet bedroom, “how would it have been?”





	

“If we’d grown up together,” Helena says to the dark quiet bedroom, “how would it have been?”

Sarah sighs; there’s rustling from the bed, the readjustment of sheets. “I dunno,” she says, her voice creaky from exhaustion. “You’d’ve driven me mad, I’d’ve driven you mad. Ask Felix, pushed him down a flight of stairs once.”

There’s a thoughtful pause from the floor, where Helena is sleeping. She sighs through her nose. “I think we would have been family,” she says. “So it would have been okay.”

Silence from the bed. “Everything would’ve been different,” Sarah says.

“Yes,” Helena says. “It would have.”

\--

“If we’d grown up separate,” Helena says to the dark quiet bedroom, “how d’you think it would’ve gone?”

Sarah sighs; there’s rustling from the other end of the bed, the readjustment of sheets. “Hell of a question, meathead,” she says. “Both of us in the foster system, y’mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t know,” Sarah says, and Helena rolls over so that the two of them are looking at each other. Two women, two sets of brown eyes, one set of blonde hair, one set of blonde streaks. They don’t blink in time anymore, but they used to. When they were younger they used to hold their breath, close their eyes, and see if they started breathing at the same time. But they’re older now.

“I don’t like thinking about it either,” Helena says quietly. “But. Sometimes—”

“Yeah, I know,” Sarah says. Helena reaches for Sarah’s hand and Sarah lets her take it, twine their fingers together. At the same time they roll onto their backs.

“We would’ve found each other,” Helena says firmly, watching the lace of their fingers. “We would’ve known somethin’ was missing.”

Sarah makes a soft noise of agreement. She doesn’t look away from their hands.

\--

“What if,” Helena says to the dark quiet of the cage, “when we were babies, we’d been sent to two different places instead of one?”

Sarah sighs; Helena makes a pained sound as Sarah’s elbow digs into her stomach, but eventually they readjust. “Bad question, idiot,” Sarah says. “God would have known.”

“But what _if_. As a test. Or so there would be two lights, in two places.”

Sarah kicks one foot against the mesh of the cage, and the sound echoes dully. “I don’t know,” she says. “One of us would have more to eat. Maybe the other one would never be hungry. Does it matter? It isn’t real.”

“I think it matters,” Helena says softly. Sarah kicks her in the leg, but not hard. “Why,” she says. “It doesn’t fill you up. Imaginings are stupid, Helena. They don’t keep you warm.”

“No,” Helena says, accepting, and curls in closer to Sarah’s side. Sarah opens an arm and they huddle close together in the cold of the cage.

“But,” Helena says. “Would you have known me? Would you have known I wasn’t one of the others?”

“Of course,” Sarah says easily, like she isn’t lying.

\--

“Do you ever wonder what it would have been like,” Helena says to the dark quiet bedroom, “if we’d grown up together?” She pauses. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

Sarah sighs; there’s rustling from the other end of the bed, and she sits up and stares at Helena in the dark. She always stares at Helena. Sometimes it seems like she has not stopped staring at Helena since the moment she took her knife away from Helena’s face and said _oh I know you_. “Yes,” she says. “All the time. But we have it now. We’re a family.”

“Sorry,” Helena says again; she also sits up, turns on the lamp. The light shines off both sets of hair, sparking equally gold off of equal shades of brown. It’s funny. You’d think one set of hair would be wilder than the other, considering the circumstances, but. They’re both exactly the same.

“Stop with the _sorry_ s,” Sarah says, blinking rapidly in the light. “I told you. We’re a family. I don’t care how it happened, only that you are here, and I am here, and we are together.”

“You don’t hate me for it?” Helena says. “That I had S, and Felix, and you had—”

“I could never hate you,” Sarah says. Her head tilts to the side. “You’re my sister. That’s what family _means_ , meat-head. You’re mine. I’m yours.”

She nods, sharply, and then burrows back down into the blankets and turns her back to Helena again. There’s an ocean of space between them in the bed. Sometimes Helena wants to hug Sarah, but after all this time Sarah still hates to be touched. So instead Helena turns off the light, curls up on her side of the bed, and tries to match her breathing to her sister’s so that she can fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


End file.
